Scarf
by ChronicCombustion
Summary: For those who have so little, even the smallest gift in friendship can seem like the greatest treasure in the world. Inspired by fanart from Cherubim101 on DeviantArt. Oneshot. (...)'s POV


This was written for as a gift for cherubim101 on DA (now agileo-101 on tumblr) waaay back in 2010, based on a piece of fanart they gifted me as thanks for writing _My Living Soul_ \- which, in turn, was based of one of their fancomics. For some reason, I just never posted the story over here...

Disclaimer: I do not own Hanna is Not a Boy's Name, nor any of the characters/locations therein. I also do not own the artwork that inspired this story.

* * *

Christmas day had come and gone and with its passing there came a sort of quiet understanding between us. Hanna and I were friends, more than just partners. Roommates, companions, almost like brothers, even. And it was because of this revelation that I felt bad for not being able to reciprocate the gift in friendship that he had given me.

My fedora.

Truly, I adored the thing. It was a little bit beat up - no doubt second-hand - and kind of tattered in some places, but all in all it was in perfect condition. Not that I minded at all. A lot of thought had gone into that gift. And it wasn't just that, it was the fact that Hanna had seen me as someone significant enough in his life that he had wanted to share the holiday with me by doing this. The holiday that both of us had pretty much forgotten; me, because of my decade of lifelessness and lack of memories, and he because of there being no one around. He had latched onto the first person that had shown him any kind of respect as a human being, had been willing to accept him for who he was. And whom he'd been willing to accept in return.

It was to my great honor that that first person had been me. At the same time, I felt sad, because it meant that he had had no one to choose from other than a dusty old corpse, but I was much too grateful to him and his open-heartedness to say anything to him. I wanted to ask him why he cared so much about me – me, who had been dead for ten years – but I think I already knew the answer. It was the same reason I cared so much about him. We were friends. We _are_ friends.

Now, seeing him as he really is, I can feel that sense of companionship that seems to have created a bond between the two of us. It makes me feel warm like I haven't for ages that I can actually be useful to someone, and I know that he feels the same way – even if there isn't much that can be done for a dead man.

But getting back on topic. He had given me that hat as a Christmas present, probably saving back whatever he could until he found it. It made my insides twist a little bit to know that I really should have done something for him in return. And that is why I resolved to make up for my lack of foresight.

I had five days until New Year's. Five days left to do something to let him know how much our camaraderie meant to me before the whole spirit dwindled away to tacky Saint Valentine's Day hype. So I began to take stock on what Hanna could possibly like. Or use. Or need. Or…anything, really. Just something that he might enjoy.

The idea came to me around the twenty-seventh, when I was walking him to work in the morning. I noticed that, while he had a relatively decent winter jacket, and indeed, a pair of gloves and everything needed to keep his extremities warm, his neck was rather exposed to the wind and cold. He did not have a scarf.

Now, he had worn mine before, upon occasion, but only if I made him. Generally, he deigned it more important that I stay protected from the little drops of sleet or icy rain or snowflakes; knowing as he did that anything wet was not my ally. I had let it slide the last few times, thinking that there was no way I could possibly win in a argument over something so trivial - or at least, trivial to him. But now that I thought about it, I don't know why I hadn't really noticed it before.

Yes, I had seen him shiver, hence my making him wear my scarf, but it had never occurred to me that he did not wear one of his own because he did not _possess_ one of his own.

And that is when my inner thought processes had begun to work overtime. Late at night, while he was asleep and I was on my walk, I happened to come across a used clothing store that I had not passed on any of my previous outings. Every so often, I enjoyed taking routes that I had not traveled before, and it seemed that fortune had smiled upon my endeavors that evening and led me on a different path from my regular one.

Out of complete and total curiosity, I reached into my back pants pocket to pull out the moth-eaten wallet that had somehow managed to survive all this time. There was no ID, nothing to help tell me who I might have been, so I had simply left it there for years, not bothering to explore it further. After all, what use did I have for it? But now, as I absently flipped open the aged leather, hearing it stick to itself as it moved, I had to suppress the urge to chuckle. Had Hanna been there, he would have had another smile to add on to my tally. There was a ten in my wallet. And I have no idea still where it came from, but I wasn't going to question the laws of the universe if it so chose to help me.

The next day, after my roommate had taken off for work, I slipped back out and headed for the shop I had discovered the night before. It took me twenty minutes to find what I was looking for over on the back wall of the store. Three dollars later, and then five more for a small amount of wrapping materials, I was done. I knew I would not be able to do this again, but at least it would suffice for the moment. Besides, I could always worry about the next time the next time.

The rest of the day – and then evening – was simply spent waiting in anticipation for my friend to return home. At least hiding excitement was easy for me, what with my constant deadpan expression.

Finally, New Year's Eve arrived. We visited Conrad (or rather, we dropped in on him unexpectedly and bothered him quite royally) for few hours, leaving just after midnight. On the walk home, during which Hanna chattered animatedly about how this year was going to be the 'awesomest ever,' I waited for what I thought might be the proper timing. Eventually, as we were passing a park, he stopped talking and paused in his steps to watch the snowfall. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he whispered.

And it really was, too. The sky was mostly clear, the stars just poking through the spattering of snow clouds. I could even see the moon shining. It was at that moment that I chose to bring out the small package that had been resting hidden in my coat pocket. It was simple, just wrapped in white paper with a green ribbon taped on, but imbedded into that modest dressing was my gratitude for this strange little man who had taken me in and made me into his sudo-family. I wanted him to know that.

"Hanna?"

He turned his face towards me. "Eh?"

"Here. This is for you." And I held it out to him. "Happy New Year's."

He blinked, confused. Then gingerly he reached out and took the small box from my hands. "Uh, what's this for?"

I shrugged. "My way of saying 'thank you.' Go ahead, open it."

A little hesitantly, he began to peel away the paper, stuffing the pieces that came away in his hand into his pocket to get them out of the way. When he got to the box itself, his hand stilled just over the lid. His eyes flicked to me and I just nodded. It was all he needed, apparently, because the next moment he was staring down at his present, a soft gasp – barely audible – escaping him.

Admittedly, I was bit nervous as to what his reaction would be. I hoped he liked it. I really did.

He reached in a hand and pulled out the long blue bundle of fabric. And then his face broke into the most amazed, most genuine grin I had ever seen. "Gnee! A scarf?" The redhead beamed up at me. "Ah, man, thank you!" Then, true to Hanna fashion, he snapped into little-kid-mode and wrapped it around his neck; nuzzling into it like a kitten. When he looked at me again, the blue of the scarf highlighted the look of wonderment and pure joy in the blue of his eyes. "Dude! It's so _soft_ and it's _blue_ and _ohmygodawesome!_ Thank you! This is, like, the best thing _ever!_ " He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, practically giddy.

I couldn't help but smile, which he caught and no doubt added to my side of the chart. "You welcome." We started to head back then, Hanna still grinning madly and gripping his new prize like it was a security blanket. I smiled a second time, this one going unnoticed. But then he stopped walking and I had to pivot on my heel to make up for it.

He was frowning, brows furrowed and gaze downcast. He switched to looking up at the sky for a moment, and then finally settled on me. "It's snowing."

I nodded. Yes, it was snowing. It had been snowing earlier, too.

"You don't…have _your_ scarf with you. Aren't you going to get snow down in your coat or something?"

And it was true, I realized, I had neglected to grab my own green-and-blue scarf from where it hung in the apartment's small coat closet. Such was my preoccupation with the one being gifted. Ah well. It wasn't snowing too terribly hard; I would manage. So I shrugged one shoulder in response.

Hanna frowned harder, his hands absently grasping at the blue fabric at his throat. "Well that's no good," he said, "here." And with that, he was pulling at one end of the scarf, tugging it so that part of it was still wrapped around him and the other part was dangling in his fingers. He hopped up onto the tips of his shoes, tossing the loose end over my shoulders. He then reached up to tuck the end back around until it covered my skin, too. He grinned, satisfied. "There ya go!" The look on his face told me everything I needed to know.

He was glad he'd met _me_ just as much as I was that I'd met _him_. We were friends, and he was grateful for my gift; seeing the meaning behind it without so much as speaking. And he loved it enough to share.

We walked all the rest of the way home, just like that, with the ends of the same blue scarf shared between us; keeping the both of us safe from the cold night air.


End file.
